


Help Wanted

by Java_bean



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Office, Crack, Donuts, M/M, Trolls on Earth, kind of, there are many daves but no explanation as to why, they're just there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 09:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15554775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_bean/pseuds/Java_bean
Summary: Karkat Vantas is a good and efficient employee.  He works as hard as he possibly can, spreading himself thin to make sure he gets the job done to the best of his abilities, which as it turns out is pretty freaking good.His coworkers, on the other hand, couldn't be bigger disasters.  They're always screwing around, talking by the water cooler, or just bugging the absolute hell out of him.  Karkat is resigned to the fact that even if he were to complain to his manager or move cubicles, absolutely nothing would change because all of his coworkers are the same annoying fuckwad of a human being, Dave Strider.





	Help Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a crack au that I'm writing mostly for myself. It's one of the first ideas I ever had for a fic, and it's loosely based off a radio ad that I heard about three years ago that I can't seem to find anywhere.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it :D

You wake up on Friday morning, already exhausted for the day ahead of you. You slam the alarm on your phone off and stumble out of your bed. You drag yourself over to the bathroom and splash water in your face to try and wake yourself up. 

Of course, it doesn’t work. To really rouse the sleep out of your system, you’re going to need coffee. Lots of good, strong coffee. Unfortunately, you don’t have time to make and also drink that much coffee before you have to go to work. Instead you brush your teeth and run a comb through your unruly hair. Then, because you need to look professional and bed head is about as far from professional as you can get, you pour a shit ton of gel into your hands and smear it in your hair until it’s smooth, albeit pretty sticky. The whole regimen takes about five or so minutes out of your day, five minutes you would rather spend still asleep in bed. Well, what the fuck else can you do?

Shave your head, maybe. That’d sure save you some time. 

Who the fuck are you kidding, you wouldn’t be able to pull off a shaved head. It would just draw more attention to your face, which you don’t want. Like you really want your coworkers to ridicule the bags under your eyes or your overbite or the smattering of freckles that you’re probably a little too self conscious about. 

Fuck, you don’t have time to dwell on how much you hate your face, you have to get to work. 

You throw on your best pair of pants and a button up, say goodbye to your two cats, and lock your apartment door behind you. Then you get on your bike and head off to work.

You live roughly about six miles from work, so it’s not a super long ride. But today is Friday, which means you have to take a detour to the bakery and pick up your usual order of donuts for the office and a large coffee for yourself while you’re there. You get your chocolate sprinkled donut, a cinnamon glazed, and ten jelly filled all boxed up and carefully placed in the front basket on your bike. You chug your coffee and burn your tongue before you’re back on your way.

You ride fast but cautiously all the way to work. There are no cars in the lot when you arrive, which isn’t unusual. You’re always one of the first few people to arrive. 

You stroll into the office and lay your box of donuts down in front of the receptionist’s desk so everyone can see them and grab one when they come in. You stretch by reception and observe the office. It’s so peaceful with no one here, almost tranquil in its emptiness. It’s enough to make you feel at ease. 

You shuffle over to the kitchen area and start up a pot of coffee so it’s ready and waiting for everybody else when they arrive. You’re nothing if not considerate. It starts percolating, and the warm, thick scent of coffee permeates the perfectly conditioned air as you head to your desk in accounting. 

“Morning, Karkat!” Aradia, the receptionist and one of the only people you work with you can actually fucking stand, chirps as she walks in. 

“Hey, Aradia.” You wave at her from your desk as you start up your computer. “Coffee’s almost ready, if you want to grab some of that.”

“Coffee and donuts?” She gasps incredulously. “It must be Friday already.”

“Yeah, unless I slept through the entire fucking day, in which case why the hell are you here on a Saturday, Aradia?”

“Gotta put in the extra hours somehow,” she plucks the cinnamon glaze out of the box. “God, it’s so nice of you to bring in donuts every Friday for no reason. Karkat, I swear, you’re one of the best people working here. Top five, no question.”

“Yeah, I sure hope I’m top five.” You snort, watching Aradia cross the room and over to the kitchen to get herself the coffee you offered. “There’s only four people who even fucking work here.”

“Well, if you want to get technical about it,” she shrugs as she leaves the area, two steaming mugs in her hands. She places one of them beside you on the desk, “you’re one of my top five bodies working here.”

You snort and pick up the cup of coffee, sipping slowly. You look up at her and note that she looped her donut onto her horn to keep it in place while her hands were full. 

“Yeah,” you snort, “you’re one of my favorites, too, Aradia.”

She takes her donut off her horn and picks a long, curled hair off of it before taking a bite. “Better get back to my desk before Mayor gets here so it looks like I’m working.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You nod. “I’m gonna try and get some shit done before Dave gets here.”

“Good luck with that, I think he should be getting here soon.”

Aradia’s always had a shockingly good sense for timing, so you genuinely believe her when she says it. “Well, fuck.”

And just as Aradia predicted, in walks one Dave Strider, in the flesh. 

“Ah, well if it isn’t my A-ray-dia of sunshine.” He smirks, picking up a jelly filled donut. “How are you this fine pre-Saturday?”

“Well, I’m at work, so.” She shrugs noncommittally. “But I have a seance tomorrow, I’m really looking forward to that!”

“A seance, huh.” Dave takes a bite out of his donut. 

“Hey, what’s up? What’s everybody talking about?” Dave swaggers into the office, a briefcase carried loosely in his hand. He leans against the reception desk casually. 

“Aradia has a seance tomorrow.”

“Oh, cool.” Dave nods, sneaking his hand over to the donut box and pulling out one of the jelly filled ones. “You know, Rose is into that kind of shit.”

“Excuse you, did I just hear a swear?” Dave says accusingly as he walks through the door, readjusting his dark glasses that you think border a little too close to unprofessional so he can glare at the other two better. “We’re in the office, only sfw chat from now on. Y’all better watch your fucking language.”

Dave holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, when you’re right, you’re right. Speaking of safe for work, I better get started on doing that thing. The work part. Y’all know how it is.” 

He gives them a quick peace sign and saunters over to his desk. Thankfully this is a Dave that works far away from you. You can’t deal with his incessant bullshit right now.

A few more Daves slowly make their way in, all of them stopping to loudly chat up Aradia and distracting both of you from your work in the process as they pick up their donuts. Then they go to their desks and, instead of doing their work like any normal fucking person, they continue to be a huge distraction and get no work done whatsoever. Or at least none that matters.

Dave Strider walks in and takes a seat across from you, a donut crammed half in his mouth. “Worning Gargad.”

You glare at him. “Could you at least try to act like a civilized human being?”

He swallows thickly. There’s a ring of frosting and raspberry jelly around his mouth. “Whatever do you mean? I am nothing if not perfectly refined. Are you calling my character into question, Karkat? That’s a pretty bold statement from someone who doesn’t even have the common decency to say good morning.”

You sigh deeply. “Good morning, Dave.”

He grins. His teeth are stained red. “See, was that so hard?”

“Hey, Karkat.” Dave from sales comes over and sits down at the edge of your desk in that way you’ve already told him a million times you hate. The jacket of his suit is tied around his waist. “Dave and I were planning on having a rap battle over at the water cooler during lunch, and we need an unbiased judge to declare the winner. Are you gonna be free around then?”

“Dave, I’m busy.”

“Yeah, but not during lunch.” He points out. “Come on, just eat your ham sandwich while you officiate. You’ll get dinner and a show. What more could you want?”

“To eat my lunch in silence, maybe?”

“You’d rather eat your lunch in silence than listen to us drop sick lyrical burns on each other? No offense, Karkat, but that is some bogus crap you’re spouting.”

You groan and run a hand through your stiff hair. “Just see if Aradia can do it.”

“Okay, fine.” Dave hops off your desk. “But if we can’t do it then it’s your fault and I’m gonna email everyone in the office about what a buzzkill you are.”

He wanders away over to the reception desk, and you feel your shoulders relax with tension you didn’t know you were carrying. You’re glad Dave left you alone, though you’re not looking forward to that rap battle you know for a fucking fact that you’re going to be judging at lunch. Hopefully you can actually get some work done before then. 

An email pops up on your work account. The fact that it’s from Dave makes you apprehensive. Despite your better judgement, you open it.

Yo Karkat,

A yo and that obnoxious red he always writes his emails in and gets away with even though it stings the ever living shit out of your bulbs. This email isn’t off to a good start.

It’s come to my attention that you are the only one in this entire office who hasn’t liked or responded to the post I made about our new mascot, this adorable origami elephant [see attached picture or come to my desk to see her in person] on any social media. That’s not very supportive of the company, Karkat. Don’t you want to help promote our company and reel in new business through our fun and quirky social media campaign? Also just look at this elephant [see attached picture] she’s so small and cute and made of folded paper. Please like and reblog or tweet or share on whatever social media platform you prefer to use asap.

Also if you come up with a name for my new paper daughter that would be awesome, and in exchange I will name you her honorary second daddy. 

Love,

Dave Strider

You grind your teeth and do your best not to have an entire aneurysm as you close out of your email. You don’t open the added file and you don’t respond to the email aside from a very long and agitated keysmash that you promptly delete.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly between your teeth. You need to calm down. You’re never going to get any work done if you’re too busy being pissed off. You get back to it.

“Karkat,” Dave leans over you, casting a shadow over your work and making you look up at him in annoyance. He has a donut gripped in his hand. 

“What?” You snap at him.

“There was something I wanted to ask,” he says as he tears the donut in half with his teeth, “so let’s say hypothetically that I made a bet with a friend of mine when i got sloshed to hell at the bar the other day, and my punishment involved you somehow. What would you say if-”

You’re barely registering what you’re saying. You can hear him talking, but you can’t understand the words. You’re too distracted by his stupid flapping lips. Now normally you don’t waste your time staring at Dave’s mouth, but there’s a glob of grape jelly right on the edge that’s just barely hanging on. 

You watch with mounting horror as the jelly is loosened from its grip on the corner of Dave’s mouth and splats in a sticky mess right onto your keyboard. 

“Oh god, fuck, sorry.” Dave takes a step back and drops his donut in surprise. 

The donut lands frosting side down right onto the file you’re currently working on. As if it wasn’t shitty enough that the thing’s oozing jelly out of both ends, now the paper’s covered in frosting, too. What the fuck, this is so much worse than Dave’s usual irritating behavior. And your keyboard! Your keyboard is sticky! It’s going to take you all fucking day to clean that shit out of it. A whole day of work, fucking wasted because of a jelly donut!

“Dave, what the fuck?” You say as you stand up.

Your hand slams into the donut on your desk, soaking your palm and the rest of the papers in grape jelly. 

For a moment, your heart stops. 

That’s it. You can’t do this. You just can’t fucking deal with Dave.

“Karkat, I...Jesus-”

“No, shut up! Just shut the fuck up, Dave! I’m done with your bullshit, I really am. I can’t stand this anymore!” You’re aware that you’re yelling, but you can’t make yourself stop. Your voice is the only sound in the entire office, everyone else has gone completely still and silent. “Dave, you are such a ginormous asshole that I can’t even fathom the depths of the bullshit you have contained inside that gaping rectum you call a mouth. Here you are, just spurting verbal diarrhea all over my face every fucking day, as if I would ever ask you for a shit shower, and then you have the gall to stand there, fecal matter dripping from your hose like maw, and expect me to respond? You took a steaming dump on my desk and now you’re expecting me to give you my attention and clean up your dung pile and then thank you for it? And on top of that you’re so fucking casual about everything all the time! As if we’re not here to do a job and instead are having the lamest excuse for a social gathering possible. You act like everyday is casual Friday and it extends far past just wearing your favorite pair of distractingly ugly jeans all the way to your obnoxiously distracting personality! Why the fuck are you like this? Why are you constantly demanding my time and testing what little patience I have left for you? You’re always coming over here and messing with my shit, or sending me stupid irrelevant emails with your stupid custom font color that shaves ten percent of my vision every time I look at it, or just begging me to do crap for you. ‘Hey, Karkat, do you want to officiate our rap battle? Karkat, help me with my computer, I don’t want to call the IT guy even though he’s also me! Hey Karkat, why don’t you listen to my mixtape and give me a detailed description of what you thought of each and every song instead of doing you’re damn job?’ Just...fuck, Dave! Why me? Why did you fixate on me so fucking hard? I can’t deal with you at all, it’s enough to pull my god damn hair out by the roots! You’re selfish, and infuriating, and you’re always wasting all my fucking time! And-” 

You’re running out of steam. Your heart is thumping so hard in your chest that it feels like someone is banging a gong against your rib cage.  
Your hand is still in the puddle of donut mess. It feels so nasty that it almost makes your skin crawl. 

“And you’ve never once thanked me for the donuts!” 

You smear grape jelly all across Dave’s face. You take extra care to smudge it on his lens. 

And just like that, your system is cleared. All residual rage you had left in your body drains out of you, along with the blood in your face as you realize what you just did. 

Dave’s face is completely blank and slathered in jelly. In his dark glasses, you can see your own face is pale and full of dread. 

Everyone’s eyes are on you.

Oh god.

What have you done?

“Karkat,” your boss’s calm voice sends a shock of fear straight into your stomach, and you freeze at the sound, “my office. Now.”

No one else moves or says anything as you maneuver past Dave and walk slowly over to your boss’s office. All of your steps are heavy as you feel like you’re walking towards your own execution. And in a way, you are. There’s no way you’re getting out of this unscathed.

Mayor holds open the door for you. You keep your eyes trained on the floor as you enter. The door closes behind you, and as it does you can sense all of your coworkers springing back to life and whispering behind your back about what just happened. About you just going off on Dave like you were a bomb and he was a lit match that sparked you blowing up. About all of the stupid shit you said, especially about the donuts, because where the fuck do you get off demanding gratitude about shit like that? 

They’re probably talking about who Mayor is going to hire to replace you when this is all said and done. 

Oh god.

“Sit down.” Mayor taps one of the chairs in front of his desk.

You fall heavily into it. You feel dazed and upset at yourself about what you’ve done. You hold your head in your hands, still unable to meet your boss’s eye. 

“Are you…” your voice is trembling, you swallow thickly in an attempt to steady it, “are you going to fire me?”

“What? No, of course not.” Your eyes flick upwards, and you watch him take his seat behind his desk. He picks up a pen and writes something down. “Of course, your job may have been less secure if you weren’t such a hard working and valued employee. If you were a mediocre worker and a problematic personality around the office on top of that, this would be a different story.”

Your bloodpusher sinks into the pit of your stomach. You were saved by your efforts, but only barely. You don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been employee of the month for the past five months running. 

You’d probably be unemployed and out on your ass.

“Obviously there will be consequences for your actions, because something like this can’t just be ignored. Karkat, you not only yelled at a fellow employee, but you also rubbed jelly into his face.”

You nod. “I know, and I’m...really sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” He replies. “Now given your impeccable record and the fact that this is your first outburst like this, I’m going to be more lenient with you. Why don’t you go home for the day?”

“Go home?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Without pay, of course. Come back on Monday after you’ve had some time to destress a bit.”

You stand up shakily and walk out of your boss’s office. Your mind is completely blank as you move slow and stiffly across the office and towards the door. You try your best not to make eye contact with anyone. 

You can hear whispering behind you as you walk. Your ears are burning with shame as you finally reach the exit.

You drag your feet out of the building. The air outside is cold and crisp with the oncoming autumn, and you shiver as your face is stroked by the light morning breeze. It would be nice if you didn’t feel painfully discombobulated being outside on a Friday morning when you’re supposed to be inside doing your fucking job. But no. Instead you have to go home because you were such a douchebag you were literally sent home like you’re some fucking delinquent in middle school. Fuck.

You don’t want to be here and think about this anymore. You sigh and turn towards the bike rack.

It’s empty.

What. The. Shit.

You run over to the rack and stand in the spot you remember leaving your bike in when you came in this morning, as if standing here and staring with your mouth agape at the spot will somehow cause the bike to spontaneously appear again. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

You grip the bike rack so hard your knuckles go white. You lean heavily against it and press your forehead into the cold metal. Someone stole your bike. Your shitty four year old bike. Why would someone do that? 

Because fuck you, is why.

God, today is the worst. You’re so frazzled and stressed and just so fucking upset that you feel like you could cry. 

Your squeeze your eyes tightly shut as you feel the hot pinprick of tears sting them. Because hey, why the fuck not do that? 

The moment you feel one slip down your cheek, you immediately start scrubbing at your face. You refuse to cry over something as stupid as this. You stand up straight and take a deep, shaking breath. Everything is fine.

Well, no of course it fucking isn’t, but it’s...it’s nothing you can’t deal with. And it’s not important enough for you to cry over like a little bitch right now. You take another big breath. 

Right now all you have to do is figure out how the fuck you’re going to get home. You guess walking shouldn’t be too bad. You bike here, it’s not that different, it’s just going to take you a little bit longer to get home than usual. 

You square your shoulders and brush dirt and loose grass off of your pants. Fuck, you’re going to have to wash these. 

“Karkat?” The sound of your name being yelled into the empty air makes you jump with surprise. “Hey, are you out here still? Karkat!”

“Dave?” You move out of the bike rack and tilt your head at him in confusion. Why the fuck is he here? “What do you want?”

“Oh, cool you’re still here.” He smiles easily at you, as if you didn’t just yell at him and make a huge scene in the office. 

“Yeah, I’m still here.” You sigh. “I really wish I wasn’t, but someone stole my fucking bike.”

“Shit, seriously?” Dave leans forward so he can get a better view of the bike rack. “Well that’s fucking lame.”

“You’re right.” You nod. “It is. Did you want something, Dave? Did you come out here to retaliate or did you just want to stand her and watch my walk of shame like a self righteous bulge lord?”

“Neither, actually.” He shrugs. “I just kinda wanted to talk.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms defensively over your chest. “So talk, then.”

“Well, I…” Dave rubs the back of his neck in a gesture that looks almost nervous to you. “Fuck, can I give you a ride home?”

You’re taken aback by this. “Why the hell would you want to do that? Especially after what I did to you?”

“Because I’m a very complex individual, get in my fucking car.” He replies before adding, “If you want to.”

“Alright, fine.” You roll your eyes. Like you’re going to pass up a free ride home, even if it’s from someone who probably despises you now. “Fuck it.”

Dave leads you over to his car. It’s a nondescript and dull beige, similar to the color of the walls back inside. You get in the passenger side.

The engine revs to life. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, I have no idea where you live.”

You nod. “You take a left when you leave the lot and then you go straight for awhile. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

“Cool, cool.” He nods as he leaves the parking lot. 

It’s oddly quiet in the car, much more so than you expected given what you know about Dave. He said he wanted to talk, but he hasn’t said anything else yet. The radio isn’t even on.

“So,” you sigh, preparing yourself for the worst, “what did you want to talk about.”

“I ah….I wanted to talk about what happened.” His grip on the steering wheel is tight. Wow. Shocker. “And I wanted to let you know that I wouldn’t have told Mayor. I don’t think this is something you should have gotten in trouble for.”

Alright, that actually is a fucking shocker. “But I...I rubbed jelly all over your face. How could you be fucking okay with that?”

“Okay, the jelly was a surprise.” Dave laughs. “But I got why you did that. Heat of the moment and all that shit. I mean, obviously that’s not something you would’ve done under normal circumstances. You were already irritated and pretty fucking stressed when I got there, I could see that from my desk all the way across the office. And yet for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to go over there and bother you some more. You were bound to snap at some point, honestly. I just happened to be the grape jelly that fueled the fire. Wait, is jelly flammable? Karkat, do you know?”

Was your annoyance with Dave that fucking obvious? You thought you were at least doing a good job of acting amicable and hiding it to him. Apparently you couldn’t even do that right. Everybody’s just been waiting for you to fall apart on him since day one.

“Alright, I guess you don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’ll just google it later. Anyway, Karkat, everything you said really made me think, both about our relationship as coworkers and how I’ve been treating you in general. There are only so many people I can talk to in the office, and you’re way more available and less creepy than Aradia. Don’t tell her I said that, by the way. So I went over and I bugged the fuck out of you whenever I had the opportunity. I never really thought about the fact that I may have been distracting you or that there’s fucking ten of me and only one of you. God, having to deal with that many of me all day everyday while you also have to crunch numbers and shit must be pretty overwhelming.”

“Turn here.” You say. “Sorry, but was there a point to this ramble of yours or are you just trying to get sympathy points from me for understanding why I would do something so outrageously awful to you? What’s the deal here, Dave?”

“What I was trying to get at,” he takes a deep breath, the fingers on his left hand tap against the steering wheel, “is that I owe you an apology.”

Are you dreaming? Did you get hit by a car on your way home and die or something? What the fuck is going on here? “What?”

“Karkat,” he clears his throat, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck else to say other than I’m really sorry that you had to put up with my bullshit all the time and that I made doing your job more difficult than it needed to be. I guess for awhile there I kinda just thought you were a bit of a snobbish jerk and I was the fun loving cool guy, like you were Dwight and I was Jim and that it would just be fucking hilarious if I messed with you a little. But then when I really think about it, Dwight was weird, but he at least tried his best at his job every day and Jim was kind of a huge asshole that whole time. Fuck, can you imagine how god awful that show would have been if there were ten Jims? They would never get any work done ever, they’d be bankrupt within a week! You know what, that’s not important. Do you get what I’m trying to say here?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think I do. Stop here.”

He stops right in front of your apartment building. 

“The gist of what I’m trying to say here is,” he takes a deep breath as you open the car door, “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a bad dude.”

“Even after this?”

He nods. “Even after this. And I’d uh...I’d like if we could maybe be friends? Or at least I’d like it if you didn’t think I was the absolute scum of the earth and a walking asshole. That alright with you?”

“Dave, I don’t hate you. I never did, I just want to make that clear. Some days you’re too much for me to deal with, and today was obviously one of those days. I’m… I’m really sorry I yelled at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Apology accepted.” Dave nods. 

“Thanks for the ride.” 

He grins. “Thanks for the donuts.”

You slam the car door and start walking towards the building.

“Hey, Karkat!” Dave yells out of the open passenger side window. 

You turn around and shout back to him. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?”

“Can I buy you lunch tomorrow?”

You snort. “If you really want to waste your money on me, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Cool, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” He rolls the window back up and drives away, leaving you standing in front of your building in mild confusion.

Then you remember what day it is. 

And what day tomorrow is.

Neither of you work on Saturday. But Dave specifically said tomorrow…

You guess that means you’re spending part of the weekend with Dave outside of work now?

Huh. What a fucking weird day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
